


Hail to the King, Baby

by sawbones



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: A Pinch of Feelings, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 11:16:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10512669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sawbones/pseuds/sawbones
Summary: Sloane always hated people sitting on her throne at parties, but she's not there to stop them any more.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another tumblr request!
> 
> "[...]how about Scott bouncing on Reyes' dick on Sloane's chair in her throne room bit ( or vice versa) after she's no longer in charge?"

“Funny how we always find an excuse to slip away from a party,” Reyes said, “Do you think anyone is starting to notice yet?” **  
**

Scott wandered along the raised walkway and stopped before the throne. He turned slowly on the spot, and mused at how different the room looked when it was empty. Nothing in it but Reyes, himself, and the soft neon glow seeping through the half-shut shades. Keema and the others were elsewhere, in the other rooms and even spilling out into the street; the Charlatan carried on Sloane’s festive ‘tradition’ but the mood was palpably different, less like a tinderbox and more like, well, a party. The throne room was off-limits as a matter of respect, and security. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to have it bugged or worse, rigged.

“It’s a step up from raiding boxes in a storeroom, at least,” Scott shrugged. He watched with a tingle of anticipation as Reyes keyed in the secure lock-code to the door.

“The downside to that is no six-hundred year old bottle of whisky,” Reyes said. He approached Scott with a warm smile and an open gait, and Scott slid into his arms so easily, like he was made for them.

“What a shame,” Scott said, leaning up against him shamelessly, “Guess we’ll have to skip right to the part where we kiss.”

It was easy bait, the sort of cheese Reyes couldn’t get enough of, and it worked. Scott could feel him grin into their kiss, a crush of noses just as much as lips as they both laughed through it. The mood shifted, however, when Reyes’ hands crept from his waist down to grip his ass, and Scott gasped against his mouth. He broke the kiss, pulling back by inches; the was an edge of hunger in Reyes’ expression that made his stomach flip.

Not one to be beaten, Scott lifted his chin in challenge, “I’ve got an idea.”

“Oh?” Reyes asked, and then when Scott began to walk him backwards towards the throne until the back of his knees hit the hard edge and he was forced to sit down, his eyes widened, “ _Oh_.”

“Humor me for a minute,” Scott said as he straddled Reyes’ legs and settled himself solidly in his lap, his arms linked around his neck for support, “How does it feel to sit on your throne?”

“My thone?” Reyes asked with a quirk of his brow.

“Yeah, your throne. You’re the king of Kadara now, haven’t you heard? You earned it,” Scott shifted slightly, and it wasn’t just to get comfortable, “Maybe not fairly, but squarely.”

“Well, it’s not as comfortable as you might think but the view–” Reyes leaned back so he could get a better look at Ryder. He followed the path of his heated gaze with a finger, drawing a line from his navel to his mouth, “–the view is breathtaking.”

Scott grinned as he parted his lips and drew Reyes’ finger into his mouth, thoroughly enjoying the rumble of approval from the other man as he teased the sensitive pad with his tongue. He pulled the digit free with an obscene pop, and pressed a kiss to Reyes’ open palm, his surprisingly delicate wrist. He could only take so much teasing, however, before he took Scott by the neck and dragged him into a deep and bruising kiss. Scott moaned, soft and quiet in the back of his throat as Reyes deliberately ground up against his ass, showing him exactly how much he was willing to humor him.

“Hold on, let me just–” Scott mumbled against his mouth, pulling back just far enough to wriggle out of his jacket and shirt, tossing both aside with a recklessness that made Reyes laugh. Once he was free, he folded back over him, chasing a trail of half-kiss-half-bites along his jaw to his ear, “I want you. Right here, on this throne, I want–”

Reyes shivered and exhaled sharply as Scott’s teeth scraped the shell of his ear. He nodded, one hand exploring the perfect plains of Scott’s bare chest, the other still around his waist to support him, “Did you bring anything that might help with that?”

“A Pathfinder always comes prepared,” Ryder said with more than a little smugness, “Back pocket.”

No matter how it would end, the whole endeavor was worth it purely for the look of barely contained lust that ghosted across Reyes’ handsome face as he slipped his hand into his back pocket and found the lube Scott had slipped in there, like the realisation that he had showed up at the party already intending to drag him off to some quiet corner and get his brains screwed out had hit him like a physical slap, “What did I do to deserve someone like you?”

“Something wicked, I’m sure,” Ryder said. He was already working on getting his own pants off, a maneuver that wasn’t half as sexy as he had hoped it would be, but Reyes still couldn’t keep his hands off him, not letting him go even when he had to stand up to shake off the pants leg that got stuck on the boots he forgot to take off first. Reyes didn’t have any clever retort to that; he seemed genuinely tongue-tied by the way Scott - gloriously and completely naked, his cock hard and proud - saddled himself in his lap again and plucked the half-used tube from his slack fingers.

Scott made no move to remedy the fact Reyes was still completely clothed; in fact, he kind of liked it. Made the whole thing feel a little dirtier, like he really was a king and he was just his concubine - but Reyes wasn’t looking at his body. He didn’t even glance down when Scott popped the cap and spread a little slick on his fingers, bottom lip worried between his teeth as he reached behind himself. He kept his gaze locked on his face, pupils blown and glassy as he watched all the little expressions he couldn’t hide; the growing pink flush in his cheeks, the slightest flutter of lashes as he pressed those fingers into himself, the crease between his brows at the too-good stretch-burn.

It was hard to take it slow, to not rush himself; not when their faces were so close, lips nearly touching but not quite, just feeling each other, breathing each other in. Not when he could feel the heat of Reyes’ hard cock straining against his pants, not when his own cock was trapped between their stomachs, the slight friction from every move, every breath doing nothing but teasing him. There was no need to hurry, other than his own impatience; the door was locked, the party was in full swing, and if anyone was looking for them, he knew Keema would have the good sense to keep them busy.

Two fingers, a slow stretch. A third, and it was a little harder to breathe. Reyes said his name, or maybe mouthed it; a plea, and a warning. Scott nodded. He was ready - god he was so ready - and slipped his fingers out of himself to fumble at Reyes’ fly instead. His breath caught in his throat as he drew Reyes’ hard cock into his hand; his gaze caught on Reyes’ mouth as he wet his lips in anticipation. A good mouth, full lips, tight line, and so many soft, pretty words. Scott poured a little of himself against those lips as he poured a little more slick over his hand, and pushed himself up on his knees so he could get the position just right.

His thighs trembled as he sank down onto his cock, but he couldn’t help himself. His head fell back with a groan and he blinked hard at the half-dark space above their heads, taking a scant few seconds just to let himself _feel_ it, they way Reyes filled him up so perfectly, the way his body adjusted to him like a lock to a key; Reyes pressed open-mouthed kisses to his chest and neck, enough teeth in them to feel like a threat. The warm, strong hands on his hips made him feel like he could tip all the way back and still be secure, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to stay close, to hang on to broad shoulders for leverage and feel lilting, helpless curses mumbled against his skin as he began to flex, to roll his hips.

Scott went as slowly as he could stand to. He relished the control while he could still hold onto it, loved the way Reyes’ fingers tensed with every deliberate downstroke, loved how he could feel the friction of every damn inch as he rocked at his own pace - but it wasn’t a pace he could maintain, he was too greedy for that, too needy. He began to work harder, fucking himself in earnest on Reyes’ perfect cock.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting this for so long,” Scott admitted in a hoarse whisper, not breaking his rhythm, “I’ve been going crazy all night, waiting for the first second I could drag you off somewhere. It’s all I could think about.”

“You’re all I can think about,” Reyes said. He looked a little concussed as Scott took his pleasure freely, rode him like a toy; sharp eyes gone soft, half-focused, full of something deep and very much besotted as he looked up at him, “Tonight. Always.”

Scott didn’t have anything to say to that, didn’t know if there _was_ anything he could say that wouldn’t ruin the moment (too much, too soon, too big, too dangerous, like a warning shot across the bow). He screwed his eyes shut and grabbed one of Reyes’ hands, guiding it to his neglected, aching cock, and he got the picture soon enough. Reyes stroked him in a off-beat to his own pace, the physical dissonance bordering on over-stim, but Scott didn’t stop him, didn’t correct himself either.

“Ryder?” Reyes asked, and Scott didn’t need to hear anything else but the tightness in his voice to know what he was asking for.

“Do it,” Scott urged. He was so close too, close enough that he could feel it, that hitching rise in his stomach with each bounce. With just those two words, Reyes came undone in a few final short, stuttering thrusts; he still somehow managed to keep stroking Scott through his own orgasm until just moments later, he came in wet stripes over his own stomach and thighs.

Reyes didn’t seem to care if he got cum on the front of what looked like his good shirt as he pulled Scott into a breathless, loose-jointed embrace. Scott figured maybe he’d use it as an excuse to not go back to the party, to slip away properly for the rest of the evening. After a moment he leant back, half-sprawled out on the throne, his hands holding steady on Scott’s hips again. He smiled, and Scott gave an inquisitive wiggle that made them both shiver.

“What?” he asked, but it was infectious, and he was grinning too, “What’s funny?”

“Scott Rider,” Reyes said, clearly amused by his own joke.

Scott cocked his head to the side and considered their position, “Wouldn’t it be Reyes Rider, technically?”

“Reyes Ryder,” there was a thoughtful pause, “I like the sound of that.”

Scott didn’t have enough brain processing power to come up with a response to something like that, and SAM was certainly not forthcoming with any sort of advice. If his awkward and very telling gape bothered Reyes, however, he did not let in show. In fact, he had to nerve to laugh.

“Okay, okay: one thing at a time,” he said diplomatically, “Perhaps we start with getting a throne for my private room? You…seemed to enjoy this one.”

“Yes, well,” Scott blustered, and hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. There wasn’t anywhere to hide when you were sitting naked as a babe on someone’s lap, “A king needs his throne, and– yeah, maybe someone to share it with someday.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out [space-mother](https://space-mother.tumblr.com/) for more writing, to submit a request, or just for some gays-in-space goodness.


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